Montana Poet Laureate
Today I received an invitation to attend: Chris La Tray, Montana Poet Laureate AT THE ELLING HOUSE, VIRGINIA CITY, MT
APRIL 27, 7-9PM

My friend, Ann White, sent me this description of our state’s poet laureate along with an invitation to attend. I am excited about going. Reading this blurb about LaTray inspired the poet in me… read on:
La Tray is a Métis storyteller and an enrolled member of the Little Shell Tribe of Chippewa Indians. He is the author of One-Sentence Journal: Short Poems and Essays from the World at Large. His next book, Becoming Little Shell will be published by Milkweed Editions in 2024.
Chris La Tray approaches the practice of poetry the same as he does the spiritual life of an Anishinaabe person: which is to say, if one lives an Anishinaabe life, with particular attention to the seven guiding principles of the Seven Grandfather teachings – Humility, Courage, Honesty, Wisdom, Truth, Respect, and Love – then every footstep becomes a prayer. Similarly, if one approaches poetry in a similar fashion, recognizing that everything that happens may be viewed as a poem, and that every moment in life is an experience best paid constant and careful attention to, then every footstep becomes a poem. Whether as words on a page or shared orally, poetry becomes another means for telling and sharing stories; La Tray’s programs exist to remind people that their stories matter, that they are the only ones who can properly tell them, and that poetry, however it is defined, is a beautiful means for doing so.

I was so inspired by “… every footstep becomes a poem…” that I contemplated those feet that created those footsteps and remembered my small feet and their paths when I was a child. I decided to try my hand at a poem before going tonight to be inspired by Chris La Tray. What do you think?
Visiting Life’s Back Corners
I see vividly our home
White with green trim
A raised tulip bed
All tucked at the end of
Fig Lane in Newman, California.
Clear in my rear view mirror
Are my walks to kindergarten
With my older sister, Sally
And my afternoons
With “Aunt Artie” in town.
I hear her animated voice
Reading to me – and then
Walking me to the library
To select a few books
Of my own to read to her.
I see our move from town
To the house next to Grandma’s
And feel my spine prickle
As I run through the yard
Chased by a riotous TomTurkey.
I taste the delicious fennel
A treat we called “sweet anise”
And feel the warm sun on my back
As Sally and I sit on the porch
Waiting for Mom to come.
In the back corner of my mind
I remember Billy coming.
A troublesome cousin whose parents
Were getting a divorce.
And I cringe at his destruction.
Laden with my meager belongings
I sense the distress of another move
Far out in God-forsaken smelly country
Away from Grandma and first grade friends
A long walk and an hour’s bus ride to a new school.
I see vividly Crows Landing Elementary School
And remember the important lessons learned
Mrs. Yetter, Ms. Horwedle, Mr & Mrs Marlow
Excellent teachers who validated and inspired me
Living still in the back corners of my mind.
Visiting life’s back corners
Congers up warm and happy memories
Of an idyllic Ozzie & Harriet childhood
Any troubles fade into a hazy blur
As every footstep becomes a poem.
See ya tomorrow
after I experience Chris La Tray.
Sure wish you could join me
as our footsteps to
Virginia City’s Elling House
become a new and vibrant poem.
God Bless You, Ann, for inviting me!
Love,
JanBeek
Ah, sweet memories
Of me with my daddy
in that smelly back country home.
I’ll write about that another day…





















































